After hours
It's midnight and you're winning an argument that ended at lunch. The perfect comeback, delivered to the dark.
They said their piece hours ago.
Then they made dinner and went to sleep.
The conversation ended for them at the door.
For you it's still running.
You've given them a second shift.
Unpaid, in your own head, long after they clocked off.
Their words cost you one bad moment.
The replay is charging you the whole night.
Nobody's keeping you here but you.
Turn off the light. They already did.
They said their piece and went to sleep. You kept the argument running for hours. Nobody's holding you there but you.
